Now That I Am Yours
by DT.Cecil
Summary: The answers to the questions bombarding him lay with her but how far will he have to go to get them? There was no way she was going to let her guard down around someone like him. He's too strong and she was still learning to be strong for herself. I need to point out that I am only the writer of this fan-fiction. I own nothing but the contents of this story.
1. Prologue

**Prologue**

Ulquiorra Cifer would have begged the unseen forces of this plane, the puppet master behind his torture to be done with it but his lips and tongue had been eaten away by fire worms and his vocal cords were rendered to the point of uselessness. In the recesses of his decayed mind, he fervently wishes for a true death.

 _Let it be no more!_ His own voice sounded raspy in his mind, unfamiliar as if this was the first time in an age since he last had a thought.

When large skeletal fingers enclosed around his middle, Ulquiorra quelled the shaking of fear of what's to come next as best as he could; willing his soul not break under the pressure of his woes. He identified his resistance to weep as pride. Slowly he's come to recognize new things within himself with each death and resurrection he'd been put through. There were times when the fire that robs his bones of flesh died down only to have his pesky regeneration doggedly regrow more of what it craves. Sometimes there were no bones left, just chared dust and soot. How long has he been like this? How many millennia has come and gone while he feeds the fires in Fifth Circle of Hell? Madness was a welcomed change but like his body, his mind quickly recovered from that state of bliss. Forced awake into the horror of his reality every time. At times he could sense beings about him, fellow souls in torment. At times there were only ghostly screams so loud and so terrifying they could chill the blood of lesser beings.

He felt himself tilting. A familiar progress, signaling that the circle of torture was about to begin again. His body must have regenerated enough for him to be ripe for the killing. Lifeless strands of jet black hair tumbled over glossy ones as he headed head-first into the Flame Basins. The flame basins only had two types of flames, orange and blue. The blue flames were the hottest ones he's known, meaning he died more quickly when they were available to lap at his skin. They consume him with hunger and need and he took longer to regenerate. An act of mercy.

At the moment they were glowing with orange-reddish lava boiling over onto the sides of the black rocks that both encircle and contained the bubbling soup in the cauldron. Orange flames were slower, as though they digested him at their leisure. Halfway through his regeneration would start.

The lobes of his ears had not yet regrown so the heat from the basins was like a direct air duct into his head. Watering his eyes and making him want to die for the last time. He couldn't stop this. Too weak from repeatedly dying, life was only a result for him now. One that suffered him from dust to bones then flesh. A systematic cycle that he wanted to end so badly he started a mantra in his head without knowing that he had. Repeating his first thought, his internal voice growing strong with practiced use added more words to his prayer. His proposition to whatever or whoever it was that would give a damn.

 _Let it be no more. No more. Let this be the last time I open my eyes ever again. Haven't I suffered enough in my first life, in my second and now in this one? What more do you want from me!? What!?_

If there were was someone listening, some entity that controls this realm, they choose to remain mute as he was plunged into the orange lake of lava, slowly to be digested once again.

Ulqiorra's last thought before he was devoured by ravenous flames savoring their meal?

 _ **Don't let me rise again, I beg you.**_


	2. Chapter 1

**1**

"You Whore!" The man managed to whisper after what seemed like a minute of silence.

Yuzu Kurosaki had never been called a whore before but as the callous remark demanded, some deep indignant anger rared it's head within her chest, convincing her that she should remain there to justify her actions. It spread quickly through her body, heating her blood and dulling her flight alert. She was unused to feeling anger or any violent tendencies but that should have been even more of an indicator that she didn't belong there.

Her personality consisted of mostly happy curiosity in most cases. At best, she was a mediator of any squabbles within her family home. Maybe she should have kept to herself and to her own business. Her sister, Karin was not here to fight for her neither was her big brother Ichigo. They were all back in Japan getting on with life while she was in a university for the Culinary Arts in London.

She had no one.

Should have thought of that before you threw the hot cup of soup at the guy! A little voice in her head berated her.

The medium styrofoam cylinder was full to the brim from the pot she'd made at school and only covered by the matching styrofoam cover to keep the heat in. It wasn't a failure, according to her grade of C- but it wasn't exactly her best.

Really, what was she thinking? Could it be the fact that today was the anniversary of her father's death why she reacted rather than thought before she acted?

Five years and it still felt like something was ripping her to pieces from the inside out. Once a year, this feeling steals everything that she understands as the facets of her personality.

Retrospecting was a cruel activity.

The man was still looking at his clothes as if the realization that his all-white suit now stained with an ugly amber yellow had not yet registered in his mind. The smell of her interference carried on the Fall evening wind in the form of chicken, seasoning, and vegetables. Maybe she had added turmeric to spice it up a bit?

She didn't know much about this country apart from what she's read but even in Japan, if someone was twice as big as you are and harassing a woman who looks older and taller than you are then shouldn't you just run and call the authorities? The woman who had been in the predicament before she did her soup-attack, had made a run for it as soon as the man was distracted. In her mini leather shirt, crop top and high heels, Yuzu couldn't help but wonder how she could run that fast.

Shouldn't she be doing the same? Her flats would make better time.

The decision came late as the man snapped his focus on her then within the blink of an eye, had one of her upper arms in his meaty fist and a tip of a blade to her throat. Terror seized her. The cold sharp blade pressed a little more into her skin and Yuzu wince.

"You little whore," He said again and sour breath assaulted her nose. She pulled against his hold as best she could but it was useless. "Do you even know what you've just done? You stupid cunt!"

He looked away from Yuzu for a moment in the direction where the woman had ran-who Yuzu now suspected was a prostitute- then cursed something foul.

His grip on her arm tightened until she was crying out in pain. "Stop it you're hurting me!"

For some unjustifiable reason, Yuzu had the hope that when the first woman had run, she would have gone to get the authorities. When reality set in, air filled her lungs and she produced a scream. They weren't far from the street where the alley ended. For a moment the pressure of the blade disappeared from her neck only to be replaced by a fist like a hammer crashing into her face. Yuzu swayed on her feet, the scream swallowed. Pain exploded on her skin, bitting below the surface, rattling the bones on the left side of her face. It took her a moment to register what just happened. If it wasn't the man still holding her upright, her knees would have given way.

"I'm gonna teach a little Asian bitch like you, what's it really feels like to hurt!" She could barely make out his words. Blood trickled from her nose and down the front of her blue blouse, her left eye was painful to keep open. Her thoughts spun and she felt light headed.

He wasn't looking at her face anymore. The focus had followed the point of his knife where it drifted to her blouse where she gasps when he cut away the buttons hold with one slice through. His dark eyes raked over the swells of her breasts. Her bra barely keeping light-golden-flesh from spilling out. Yuzu protested weakly, the threat of the sharp blade had her feeling almost paralyzed. The man dragged her deeper into the alley shadows, behind a dumper that concealed them from passers-by at the mouth of the exit and pinned her to the red brick wall with the bulk of his weight. Her face pressed up sideways against the wall. Her breathing shallow even as her heart quickens.

A hand squeezed one of her breasts roughly. Panic filled her, choking her words. When she tried to speak, her voice came out strangled. "No!" She whimpered again and again as though that one word was her talisman and it could protect her from what was certainly about to happen next.

There was no one there to help her. She couldn't help herself.

With her face pressed up against the wall, she could see the exit to the alley.

So close.

Light squeezed through the cracks and she could see the shadowy silhouettes of strangers pass by unaware of the horror taking place just a few paces before them.

Between the press of their bodies, she felt her skirt hurriedly shove to her waist and cold air on her asscheeks. His thumbnail cuts the skin of her upper thigh as her panties were ripped from her body with thick-stubby fingers. At the sound of the rip, Yuzu sobbed uncontrollably. Her one-word talisman bubbling up from her throat in airy whispered sobs like a broken record.

In order to stretch what little money had left over from her paycheck to the end of the month, Yuzu had opted to walk from the university grounds to her one bedroom studio apartment some blocks away instead of taking a taxi. She was carrying some groceries from her last practical and given that it's Friday, some heavy study book that she needed to add some extra study time in. The short alleyway cuts the distance in half. It wasn't like she hadn't done it before. There were days when all she did was walk. The streets were busy enough on those days and sometimes they were not but regardless, she'd never felt as afraid as she did right now. Not even when she'd died the first time.

Her legs were kept opened by one of his knees. She heard the man spit into his palm then felt the disgusting wetness invade between her legs. Nausea washed over her as his heavy body pressed against hers.

Suffocating.

One finger entered her hard and fast, probing, making her cry out. The invasion stung. She's never even been kissed before. Shame and a roil of other emotions bombarding her. Disgust. Hatred. Anger. **Guilt.** But above, all fear stood out the most, sapping her strength like a leech.

His zipper sounded loud in her ear as he undid it. Again she pleads. "Please, please don't do this, " But it was useless and she knew it.

The man was saying something else to her. His knees bent and she could feel him adjust his body in line with hers.

Yuzu closed her eyes. Wishing with all she had to not think about what about going to happen. To not be there. To not have to unwillingly steel herself to endure this horror when the pressure on her back disappeared abruptly and the knife vanished with it.

She heard a grunt, then a thud; curses follow yet the sounds sounded distorted as if she was underwater. When she tried to turn around or even pull down her skirt, her body refused to move. Her head was still in the same place her assaulter had set it when he pinned her to the wall with his bulk, her cheek pressed in so much that she could feel the tiny grains of the wall sticking to her skin. She needed to get away, she knew that like the back of her hand but for the life of her couldn't move.

Why? The question popped up in her just as a hand touched her shoulder.

Yuzu let out a pent-up scream before blackness consumed her.


	3. Chapter 2

**2**

Leonardo Marquis Edevane sat at the far side of the cavernous room watching the young woman deep in sleep on his bed.

Something could be said about that. Surely.

Why my bed?

Then again, why not? It's not like he's been using it of late.

At his arrival at his townhouse, he'd taken her from his car wrapped up in his thick coat to cover her exposed skin from the bit of the Fall breeze. Rushing into the house with the girl in his arms he'd reluctantly handed her over to his butler- a big man more than capable of managing the girl's weight while balancing a laden tray- she was so small and light.

He still had pressing matters that demanded his attention, despite his diversion to play the hero that rescues the damsel in distress, he couldn't just simply ignore them. However, tempting.

"Call my physician and inform her to be over here immediately with a rape kit." He told Stephon, transferring his burden and turning towards his office. Stephon face paled but he said nothing. A man of very few words unless it was necessary.

A woman doctor was more the appropriate option, a woman examining and touching her body is the better choice if the girl woke from her faint- in a stranger house- than a man given her ordeal.

Leonardo doubted that she had been raped but he had to be sure. The piece of trash he'd beaten to an unconscious state, had not, from what he could tell, begun his filthy acts by the time he arrived on the scene. It was an insult that the bastard still drew breath. When he'd grab the man and literally hurl him off the girl, something in him snapped. Like he'd stepped over an invisible threshold and there might be no going back. It's too bad that the pig was already in police custody. The protocol of his country demanded that he blow the whistle on him and he did so, as soon as he wrapped the young woman up into his coat. She wasn't moving and for one heart-stopping moment, he thought that the bastard had already killed her. There were a few nicks on her pale throat from the knife the man had drawn on him, had grazed her skin but she seemed to breathe evenly in his arms. Her face had taken a blow on the left side and Leonardo felt his teeth grind in anger. She looked so delicate and looked like frail. On a terrific windy day, she might be swept up with the gust. Within the hour the bruise on her face had changed into its true colors and was now marred with a black and blue puffy swelling.

"And Stephon," Leonardo called up, stopping the man halfway up the stairs, "Ensure that she takes something for shock, as well. I fear that the young woman may have suffered catatonia.

Stephon nodded gravely, the act as good as done. And within ten minutes his doorbell rang with Dr. Lauren Kyle on its steps. Lady Kyle for high social circles.

The staff was abuzz with the intrigue of gossip at his expanse. Though none would ever be so bold as to say while he was in earshot, he's never brought home a girl before this day.

All of his affairs had always been conducted in hotel rooms or at his patroness's living quarters. Sex brought him little in the way of satisfaction no matter the woman he was with. Privileged or paid for, it didn't matter. For some time, he'd even come to the conclusion that maybe he didn't like women that much as he thought he did. But if that were true, he wasn't homosexual either.

Leonardo sigh. What just happened to him? Until only today, he can say that he couldn't remember feeling anything much within himself. Emotions always came slowly to him. He's always been calm and aloof in his nature. Always in control of the situation. But today a rage like no other consumed him like a living thing when he happened on that scene in the alley. But shouldn't it have enraged any decent man?

Did I just _happen_ onto that alley?

He replayed the scene again and again as he'd sat in his office, robotically going over papers. Not reading most of the contents, his concentration at it's lowest in memory. For some crazy reason, as he was driving home, he heard like someone was calling out for him to help. Above the purr of his Porsche with the windows up and the stereo going? A woman's voice that he's never heard before, small and terrified, it wretched something within him that caused him to stop his car. He heard it again when he parked and got out but given the distance between the alley and where he parked his car, there was no way he could have heard her calling out. Could he?

 _Put it with the others._ Leonardo thought, annoyed with himself that he was shagging his work for this as he put down the papers and marched back upstairs. Hands in pockets, he waited outside the door of his room while the doctor examined the girl.

Stranger things have been happening and my mind has suffered for them. He thought to himself.

He's experienced nightmares and dreams that were so vivid he would wake up disoriented and confused about where he was. About who he was! That could be the reason why he might believe that he's experienced all of these things.

The doctor came out closing the door behind her softly. Leonardo wasted no time.

"Well?" he demanded.

The tension in his body eased somewhat when the words "No rape" tumbled out of her mouth and he let out an inaudible sigh.

"Your suspicions were correct, she did have a mild case of catatonia which I already administered a treatment for. I took some samples from her and gave her an injection for the swelling. She should be alright in a few hours."

"Thank you," Leonard said with a nod before stepping pass her towards the room. His curiosity making him a bit curt but he needed to be there when she woke up. He had to hear her voice. It nagged on him; making him impatient- a first.

The doctor stopped him just as his hand encloses around the door handle. "Count Edevane?"

"Yes, Dr. Kyle," Leonard answered.

"You haven't given a response to my previous proposal." She told him, her face painted with disapproval for a moment.

He turned to her, releasing the handle, "I do believe I've made myself abundantly clear on the matter, doctor." He looked at her, his eyes penetrating into hers. With his title, most thought of him as a meal ticket sneered or given. His bachelor status kept him on the list as 'open season' for eligible women of prestige who are looking to balance their power or to elevate themselves. There are so little persons he could really trust. That's always been the case ever since he was a teenager and his parent met in that accident. When the title of Count was passed down to him. A title that came with the privileges and the vipers.

Lauren Kyle was older than him by almost a decade. Her days of beauty were still there thanks to the magic of makeup covering the fingers of time on her face. But that didn't stop her from looking at him like a beast ready for its next meal. Leonardo regarded her emotionlessly,

"You're within my employment and I have no desire to get involved with someone on my payroll. I don't know if I can be any clearer than that."

"Then void my contract." She said smoothly taking a step toward him. "I am _more_ than qualified to work elsewhere."

She had her connections in high places, he knew that. And she didn't have to work for him or at all as she is the daughter of a Duke. He admired that she didn't just live off her title but clearly, a person's willingness to refuse her requests is as foreign as it was hard to swallow.

When her hands stretched towards his chest, he glowered at them so vehemently, she dropped them almost instantly.

"We could be a power couple, you and I. You don't want to make an enemy of me, Count."

He almost felt like smiling. Which he rarely did.

"Then I look forward to your most inspirational endeavors, Lady Kyle. I also expect that you tender your resignation effective immediately. Stephon will see you out. Good evening." With that, he opens the door then walked into the room, closing it silently on her stunned face.

He'd tried being polite but it seems his customary cold dispassion was the better choice.

Hours passed as he sat in the darkened room watching his sleeping guest. The inky blackness was only pushed back a bit by a bedside lamp turned down to the lowest setting.

The girl turned then and a lock of hair centers itself on her delicate forehead. Her skin had a tingling sensation that he couldn't explain, like tiny pricks of electricity that ignited something within him when he was in contact with her. It was one of the reasons he'd sat as far away from her as possible. Leonardo squeezed the arms of the chair to settle himself, feeling his swollen hands protest stingingly with the added pressure to them. He resisted the temptation to leave his spot and walk over to brush that the hair away. She'd been through an ordeal and the last thing she needs was waking up to some man she didn't know touching her- no matter how much I want to.

He looked away taking a deep breath, composure inking back into him when a low moan came from the girl, snapped his focus back on her once more.

Finally, he could get the answers he seeks. To make sure that he wasn't going mad.


	4. Chapter 3

**3**

Ichigo had been feeling like something was out place since the morning started. He could barely concentrate on his tasks at the clinic. He didn't know if the cause of his unease was something that happened already or something that's coming. He called his wife from his cell phone,

"Orihime," He did his best let his voice be as normal as possible.

"Ichigo-kun." She replied beamingly. She still called him that even though he was no longer a 'Kun' at age twenty-eight.

"Are you alright? How's Kazui?"

"We're fine," He could hear the smile in her voice as if she found it sweet that he called to check up on them. They were just doing some shopping at the supermarket some blocks away.

"What is it, Ichigo?" this time there was less sunshine in her tone.

He forces a smile before speaking again. "It's nothing, I just wanted to check up on you both. Will you be home soon?."

"Kazui is just picking out his cereals from the shelves." She signed over the phone then a little laugh escaped her. "He's so picky. We'll be home in the next half hour."

Ichigo nodded then he remembered that she couldn't see him, "I'll see you both soon."

It felt good to hear her voice and it would have been even better if he'd video called her but he knew that she would have seen through his charade at the first glimpse of his face.

He looked around the clinic and could almost feel the Old Man's presence. Yesterday was the five-year anniversary and though Karin and he had been past their grieving process, accepting the reality, Yuzu wasn't. He'd spoken to her just yesterday and everything seemed ok as far as ok went with Yuzu. After Isshin passing, no one was more devastated that she was. She smiles and pretends like everything is fine but both he and Karin could see through it. Karin is tough as nails but Yuzu is delicate. In Yuzu's own way, smiling and hiding her true feelings was being strong. She was closer to dad than any of them.

His next patient wasn't until another hour and until then he had nothing to do but have a staring contest with his cell phone while drumming the table with his fingers in constant succession. With both his sisters in university, Ichigo had no idea what their schedules were like and didn't want to disturb them unnecessarily. The same can be said for his friends. They all had their lives to live and he respects that.

 _But still_.

He drew in a deep breath. He's never been one for introspection. The feeling was still there in his gut and it had never steered him wrong before. He couldn't rest until he had the answers that he needed. If that meant disturbing the daily lives of people he cared deeply about to ensure that what he was feeling wasn't just him edging on pessimism, then so be it. He grabs his cell phone, quickly scrolling through his contact list and the recent calls.

Another deep breath. If it's nothing, then that will be that and he will be able to sleep peaceful tonight.

Ichigo started to dial.

Karin's phone rang without an answer. Not surprising. She'd received a scholarship for soccer and the championships were coming up. Balancing study and a sport was a lot of work. When the voicemail kicked in, he left a message for her to call him back.

Ichigo dialed another number. Voicemail again. He wasn't expecting much. He didn't even know what he was going to say if he got anyone.

He dialed another number listening to the ringing. He was sure that it would have gone to voicemail until it answered on the last ring.

"Kurosake"

"Ishida, you're still alive, huh?" Ichigo said nodding to himself. "Yosh!"

"What the hell is that suppose to mean!?" Click.

He didn't have to worry about Uryu or Chad, they were strong fighters. Dialing a few more numbers, he got a couple of people, Tatsuki and Keigo both had a conversation with him for a few minutes. He told them to be careful and that was as normal as saying' Have a good day." in any polite conversation.

He dialed Yuzu lastly and a female recording chipped in, advising that ;

"Your call cannot be connected that this time. Your party may be out of range. Please try again later. Goodbye."

 _Out of range? Why would she be out of range? Did she turn her phone off?_ His agitation ratching up a notch.

The questions stayed on his mind until he caught a glimpse of the clock. He brows furrowed.

10:01 AM. He was nine hours ahead so, it was now 1:00 AM in London.

He groans feeling foolish. "Ah, I see." Covering the center of his face with his stapled palms, breathed deeply then rake his fingers through his spiky hair. It made sense.

What didn't make sense at all was this persistent feeling that something was wrong.

A knock on his doctor drew his attention. It was his patient ten minutes early.

 _Why not._ He thought. He needed the distraction.

"Maybe it was pessimism after all."


	5. Chapter 4

**4**

Yuzu was afraid to move, afraid to open her eyes even.

She wasn't sure she wanted to know what kind of reality was waiting for her because she wasn't dead. Death would've been more welcomed than facing the shame that scalds her skin like a brand. Making it crawl. She was paying for her stupidity, she knew that. But knowing and accepting were two completely different things.

 _What happened after I blacked out?_

Did she really want to know the answer to that question? How could she have fallen unconscious in the middle of being attacked?

The actions she'd set into motion were hers in every way and there was no getting around that. Like a domino effect, the memories of what happened before she clocked out slammed home in the same instant she regained her conscious state leaving only one thought pulsating in her head,

 _Stupid. You're so stupid!_

There was no big brother to exact revenge on her behalf. No big sister's shoulder to cry her eyes out on as she was comforted. She couldn't even get her voice to work, to alert someone to her situation at the time. A shudder came over her body, her teeth grounded together to keep them from chattering; though she wasn't cold. A choking sob was rising fast in her throat bringing with it even more of what she felt. Disgust with herself. She wrapped her slim arms around her chest then frowned. The question of why something thick and warm was top of her entered into her mind just as the sound of a man's voice rumbled from somewhere around her.

"Are you awake now?

Her eyes immediately flash open and instinctively, she curls herself up in a protective ball. A whimper fuelled by rekindled fear escaped her trembling lips.

Little things that should have registered before came to her now as reality unveiled its curtains. She wasn't in a dark alley but a darkened room with a low light coming from a bedside lamp, in a bed under soft thick quilts she burrowed deeper into until they were up to her nose as if they could protect her from whoever asked the question she was yet to answer. She had a few questions of her own. They demanded;

Who are you? Where am I? What are you going to do to me? What have you done?

But none would pass her lips. She tried to move her lips and could tell that something wasn't right. The act of opening her mouth-once so simple and without thought-felt like an arduous chore. Was that because she got hit in the face? Her jaw felt numbed shut. Her tongue was heavy and thick in her mouth but there was no pain. Shouldn't there be...some pain?

Peeking over the fortitude of the quilt, she watched a shadow moved towards her slowly like a predator stalking closer. The sob she'd been saving pushed out from her numbed mouth, prying her lips open and filling the silence of the room with the sound of her hitching breaths. The shaking increased and quickly afterward tears followed, and Yuzu hated them. Hated herself for not being stronger than this.

An exasperated sigh came from the shadow before it spoke again. Coming ever closer it said;

"You've been in my bed, unconscious, for the better part of six hours. If my intent was to do you any harm, I would have done so already."

 _Six hours!?_ Yuzu thought flabbergasted.

In an instant, the darkness of the room was banished replaced by bright light. Yuzu docked under the covers for shelter, away from the light assaulting her eyes mercilessly.

"I apologize. That was insensitive of me. I should have given you a little warning before I switched the light on."

His voice was deep, accented. A polished British tenor that made her want to brave the light's resentment on her sight and poke her head up in curiosity. She peels back the quilt an inch, squinting rapidly for a second.

Directly in front of her at the foot of the bed, a man stood with hands in pocket. He was of slim built and around the same height as Ichigo or a little taller. His chiseled features seemed designed to demand attention. He was dressed in what Yuzu believed was called a tailored suit. It looked expensive. Black pants, a dark green long-sleeved dress shirt with gold cufflinks, neatly tucked in and secured with a black leather belt. A dark 5 o clock shadow covered his masculine jaw culminating to a point up his chin, under his mouth- a bold slash with a hard edge to it that was frowning at her. A straight nose centered his face while long dark lashes framed mesmerizing blue eyes. His thick-short dark brown hair was styled neatly but also with a careless air at the same time.

"Am I to be the only one in this conversation?" The man asked sounding a bit irritated.

He had asked questions and she wanted to answer them. She really did!

But how to do so with her current plight? She tried to open her mouth again just as another question came flying.

"Are you going say something?" This time he went from irritated to almost sneering. "Are you a mute? Is that why that man attacked you because he knew you were helpless?" He said it so callously, almost maliciously.

Her bottom lip trembled. Shame redoubling making her want to disappear. Did this man know about what happened to her? Had he found her and brought her here? And why here? Why not to a hospital to see a doctor?

Yuzu looked away from him then swiped at her tears with the back of her hand, feeling the unevenness of her swollen face. She wanted to go home more than anything else, scour her skin raw until she could no longer remember the feel of that man on her. She would complete her preparations for her father's memorial then afterward, cry her eyes out.

She drew her legs up under her and again questions came to her. Where was the pain? Shouldn't it hurt?

Education on these things came through rumors and internet articles speculation. Since arriving in England, with its open atmosphere for expressing public display of affections, Yuzu has seen more action on the buses and trains than she had in all her twenty-three years of life. In Japan, sex ed was still about the birds, the bees and the STD's. Not exactly the 'all you need to know'. A conservative country, where parents and teachers still got red in the face when talking about safe sex. If there was ever a conversation like that. Yuzu never had one with her dad. When he was around her, Ichigo's scowl alone was enough to make any potential crush run for the hills. Not that she had any. She was Yuzu, the plain blond. Nothing special about that.

Face still turned away, she pushed the willpower to move in her legs undoing them from under her to straighten in front of her to get off this bed. So far, the man wasn't keeping her from leaving, she should go.

The man was grumbling something under his breath that she couldn't hear. Then she heard him take in a deep breath and release it in a long sigh.

"You were not raped, just so you know."

Yuzu froze. One leg hanging off the high and now that she that noticed it, gigantic bed. Why was everything coming to her in minuscule measurements? As if her senses were playing 'catch up' with reality. Her eyes met his once again, light blond brows drawn in a confused expression. How can he know that for certain? Was he a doctor? Had he... _touched_ her?

The thought made her stomach lurched. She took a deep breath then tried to say something. Her lips opened slightly on a couple of attempts. Nothing.

Eyes darting desperately on the floor, Yuzu looked up again then pinched her index, thumb and middle fingers together then pretend to scribble on her flattened palm.

Another sigh. This one sounding disappointed.

"I can't believe this." The man was saying, walking around the bed opposite from her. "Six hours." He tsked. "What a colossal waste of time."


End file.
